Archive for 22 april, 2008

Tisdagsförströelse 9

Förra veckans citat visade sig vara lite knepigt; och framförallt trååååkigt enligt Ö-helena. Vilket tycks varit en viktigt ledtråd eftersom hon kom fram till att det därför måste vara Alexandr Solsjenitsyn.

Det är visserligen många år sedan jag läste boken ”Augusti fjorton” men jag måste erkänna att jag har inget minne av att jag tyckte den var tråkigt. Det är å andra sidan den enda bok jag har läst av denne författare så jag kan inte uttala mig om författarens generella tråkighet eller inte.

Nu inför denna veckas citat har jag rotat runt i mina bokhyllor för att hitta något med högre ”skojighetsfaktor”. Det här citatet kommer från en bok som jag definitivt tyckte var rolig när jag läste den.

The farmer’s wife answered and Siegfried beamed on her. ‘Good morning to you, Mrs Seaton, have you a carving knife?’
The good lady raised her eyebrows. ‘What was that you said?’
‘A carving knife, Mrs Seaton, a carving knife, and a good sharp one, please.’
‘You want a carving knife?’
‘Yes, that’s right, a carving knife!’ Siegfried cried, his scanty store of patience beginning to run out. ‘And I wonder if you’d mind hurrying. I haven’t much time.’
The bewildered woman withdrew to the kitchen and I could hear whispering and muttering. Children’s heads peeped out at intervals to get a quick look at Siegfried stamping irritably on the step. After some delay, one of the daughters advanced timidly, holding out a long, dangerously-looking knife.
Siegfried snatched it from her hand and ran his thumb up and down the edge. ‘This is no damn good!’ he shouted in exasperation. ‘Don’t you understand I want something really sharp. Fetch me a steel.’
The girl fled back into the kitchen and there was a low rumble of voices. It was some minutes before another young girl was pushed round the door. She inched her way up to Siegfried, gave him the steel at arm’s length and dashed back to safety.
Siegfried prided himself on his skill at sharpening a knife. It was something he enjoyed doing. As he stropped the knife on the steel, he warmed to his work and finaly burst into song. There was no sound from the kitchen, only the ring of steel on steel backed by the tuneless singing; there were silent intervals when he carefully tested the edge, then the noise would start again.
When he had completed the job to his satisfaction he peered inside the door. ‘Where is your husband?’ he called.
There was no reply so he strode into the kitchen, waving the gleaming blade in front of him. I followed him and saw Mrs Seaton and her daughters cowering in the far corner, staring at Siegfried with, large frightened eyes.
He made a sweeping gesture at them with the knife. ‘Well, come on, I can get started now!’

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